The first thing she saw of him was his back.
She'd been abandoned. Left for a dead on a wartorn asteroid in the farthest reaches of the empire. At the mercy of the enemy.
Acxa wasn't surprised she'd been left behind. She had been expecting something of the kind for some time. Half-galra were openly looked down upon amongst the ranks of the empire. Joining the armies ranks technically wasn't forbidden to those like herself but they also weren't entirely welcome.
However, NOT joining meant being left at the mercy of all the empires enemies. With nowhere else to go Acxa had had no choice but to make herself useful and just learn to bear the brunt of her fellow officers disapproval.
Recently though things had been reaching a breaking point, Acxa knew it was only a matter of time until she was either killed or otherwise disposed of. All she could do was prepare for the eventuality and be ready to run should it be required.
That was the only reason she'd managed to survive this long.
The supplies she'd stolen and kept hidden on her person had lasted her three days but had now dwindled to non-existence. All she had now was her gun and the bottom bin armor on her back.
An the enemy soldiers who'd been hunting her since her squadron had pulled out.
Exhausted, out of food and water, and with no means to make an escape, Acxa had been sure she was about to die when the enemy had her cornered and wavering near unconsciousness.
That was when the blood started.
Blood was nothing new to Acxa. She was a soldier after all. Battlefields coated in red were a common occurrence.
That blood had always been the red that guns and blaster wounds caused. The kind that seeped slowly from burns and into clothes and the ground. That smeared the floor and walls of enemy ships like badly applied paint.
This blood though…
This blood spurted through the air like rain.
It was the kind of blood that came from a sword.
Lotor didn't rescue her. Saying so would have been inaccurate. He really had just been passing through when the rebels attacked both him and his allies. Making it feel less like a dramatic rescue…
… and more like fate.
Acxa could distinctly remember him standing there. His back to her and sword drawn. Even after joining forces with him and becoming one of his generals she always seemed to be standing at his back rather than at his side.
Standing at his side, being his equal, it was all she ever wanted.
The last she saw of him was his back. Half turned to face her. A look of shock on his face.
But she couldn't hesitate. She didn't hesitate.
After everything that had happened, everything the others had said, Acxa knew one of them was bound to act.
She wanted it to be her.
Both Zethrid and Ezor were grief stricken and angry. They had just and loyal hearts guiding them. What they would do to avenge Narti was only a matter of time. When that time came there would have been no hope for Lotor.
So she acted.
She told herself that it was because she wanted to avoid her comrades ever experiencing that lingering moment of regret. That wakefulness that came with dark, but necessary, deeds that haunted the subconscious.
Had they done the right thing? Had there been another way?
But later, as Lotor sped away after ejecting Zethrid and the three of them were left drifting in space, Acxa felt a deep pain in her chest. It didn't go away even days after the event. Weeks or months even.
It just wouldn't go away.
I did the right thing. She told herself. I know I did the right thing. But even so…
Why is my heart breaking?